


Eating at Me

by FuniFuni



Category: Persona 5
Genre: But this time it's curry, Coffee Dad Sakura Sojiro, Gen, I actually didn't write this at 2am for once!, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sweet, fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuniFuni/pseuds/FuniFuni
Summary: Fears can hinder. And fears can save. Those who have the latter are lucky. Those who have the former are cursed. Akira is cursed. But he hid his curse. He didn't want to be weak. But a little talk with his guardian makes him see that sometimes...being weak isn't so bad.





	Eating at Me

How did he get into this situation? Akira couldn't help but ask himself that, even as he laid, half-conscious, in a dark, damp alley next to Leblanc. It was rather humiliating to know what he looked like, and even more so when he recalled what pathetic thing caused this.

 

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Fears are terrible things. They hinder, draw out, or even completely stop some forms of social interactions. Sometimes they interfere with living in general. Akira had a fear, too, even if he hid it so well that not even his friends, that he spent almost the entire day with, noticed. On one hand, it hurt that his friends didn't notice his suffering, but on the other hand, it was a relief that he could still be seen as the strong, fearless leader of the Phantom Thieves in their eyes.

What fear did he have, you ask?

The fear of the repetitive.

It didn't have a scientific name yet, for it not being that popular of a fear. But to Akira, it was just The Fear. He didn't need a name, for this fear had stuck with him throughout his life. It almost as if he had another part of himself dedicated to that Fear. It became a companion in the familiar, lonely nights he spent awake, tossing and turning in the attic of Leblanc, or in his room back in his hometown. And even though his hometown was far worse than Tokyo with its familiarity, same people, same scenery, same everything, there was one upside that Tokyo, and more importantly, Cafe Leblanc, didn't have.

His food.

Back in his hometown, he was in charge of what he ate and drank, eating something different each day in a random pattern. But in Tokyo, there were four options that he could get without having to go on a wild goose chase: ramen, Big Bang Burger, the lunch buns the school offered, and Sojiro's curry. He could make something random out of the first three, but with Sojiro practically forcing him to eat the same curry for breakfast everyday, and most times dinner too if he hadn't eaten out before hand, it was enough to create a pretty bad case of fear for the stuff. But he couldn't refuse the cafe owner. That would expose him as weak, having a fear. Not to mention, refusing would probably land him back at square one, with Sojiro losing all respect and, possibly, fondness that he had previously had for the boy. That was one of the last things Akira wanted. So he had no choice. He had to eat it. He felt disgusting afterwards, but it would all be worth it to protect his bonds. He just had to last til the end of the year.

365 days.

52 weeks.

12 months.

Akira could feel himself on the verge of breaking down, even as he thought about it.

Today was a Sunday, which meant no school, which meant he could go out for a walk amongst the relaxing randomness that Tokyo had to offer. But that also meant going downstairs and eating yet another plate of curry that Sojiro had no doubt prepared for when he left. And if he didn't go down soon, it would look suspicious. It was already nearing 7:30; Akira never stayed "asleep" til longer than eight. Sojiro might think he was sick. Which, now that he thought about it, would switch up his routine a bit, but the raven haired boy could not bring himself to use his guardian like that. The thought of doing so did not help his upset stomach at all.

His stomach had felt sick throughout his entire inner monologue, another thing that started to become a familiarity.

_Stop it._ He told himself. _You need to go downstairs and eat the curry Boss prepared for you. Afterwards, you can calm down in Tokyo._

The reinforcement seemed to work, for as soon as he stopped talking -thinking?- to himself, he forced himself out of bed and got dressed in casual clothes. He tried to ignore the fact that these clothes were the same ones he wore out last Sunday, and instead patted the soft, black fur of Morgana's side, who was still asleep on his bed, in goodbye and stepped down the stairs, dread coiling in his gut as his mind began to think about the curry that would be waiting for him once he reached the bottom.

And lo and behold, as soon as his feet hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs, he saw Sojiro push a plate full of the same old curry in front of his designated seat. His stomach clenched painfully just from the sight of it, but he kept pushing his feet over, trying not to look like he was walking to the gallows.

_Screw lasting the year,_ Akira thought as he was finally seated in the chair at the bar. _It'll be a miracle if I can last the day._

As much as Akira didn't want it to be there, the spoon soon found itself wedged between his lips, filled with curry and rice.

He held back a gag.

It wasn't as if the curry was disgusting or anything, rather delicious, you could say, it's just that the familiarity of it made the high school boy sick, and that feeling just worsened when he put that disgusting familiarity in his body.

But soon enough, by the power of not thinking about it, Akira had finally finished the plate to a level of cleanliness that would leave no room for suspicion. The rest got dumped into the sink, unfortunately, going to be seen again tomorrow, or perhaps tonight.

And yet another familiar feeling enveloped him as he stepped out from behind the bar, making his stomach worse, and bringing on the start of a headache. Akira did not know the name of this feeling, but he knew that when it came about, he needed to get out of there quickly, and get pulled into something, anything, that was out of his routine. Quickly saying his goodbyes to Sojiro, the younger of the two inhabitants of the cafe sped out the door, hoping and wishing with all his might that he wouldn't pass out in the middle of the street as that strange feeling began to weave its slimy tendrils through his body.

Today must not have been a good day for him, or Fate just decided on a whim to destroy his day out of enjoyment. Either one seemed quite plausible to him. But as he was passing Leblanc, using the walls for support, his vision started to waver in and out, and thus, he didn't notice the break in the wall he was holding onto.

Stray cats startled as he all but fell into the alley next to Leblanc, shifting and knocking over garbage can lids, running even faster at the horrid clanging sound they made.

Akira gagged, still on his knees on the ground, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he felt the contents of his stomach try to rise up his throat.

_Not...far enough...need to get way..._

Those were the only thoughts coursing through his mind, as his stomach finally succeeded in making him throw up, and tears streamed down his cheeks from the burning in his throat and the ache in his head. But it seemed that Fate had some mercy left in store for him, for he soon passed out, missing the next moments that, if he were awake, would be the most embarrassing moments in his life.

 

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Sojiro thought there was something wrong with the kid when he rushed out earlier, looking all pale and such, but he did not expect the sight that greeted him when he went out to investigate some strange noises coming from the alleyway next door. He expected more of those stray cats fighting each other, knocking the trash cans over or something, not his charge passed out next to a puddle of vomit. No. Definitely not that.

" _Shit..._ " he murmured, taking in the sight. "What happened to you, kid?"

Akira was even paler than before, this time with tiny scrapes decorating his face and hands, most likely from being rubbed against the rough concrete and stone walls. Locks of his curly black hair were straight for the first time that Sojiro had seen, but they were plastered to the boy's face with sweat. His lithe chest was rising up and down quickly, small pants slipping from parted lips. His glasses sat tilted on his face, scratched a little from where they met with the concrete.

The first thought that came into Sojiro's mind was _Sick._ The boy was sick.

"Why didn't he tell me?" the man growled out, albeit with no anger behind it, just worry, as he stepped over the fallen trash can lids and the puddle of stomach fluids.

Akira was light in his arms, no surprise, but what was a surprise was the layer of muscles that twitched under his clothes as the middle aged man picked him up. Who would've thought? Now there was the problem of where to take the kid. The kid's room was in Leblanc's attic, he might get startled at the change of scenery, especially when sick. But it wouldn't do to leave him in a place with a draft and dust and germs; it'd just make his illness worse, whatever it was.

_My house it is..._

Sojiro was kinda hesitant to bring Akira into his house, mainly because he was scared of Futaba catching whatever he had. And to a lesser extent, he didn't want the kid to throw up on his floor, leaving him to clean it up. But he brought the raven haired boy in anyway, carrying him up to a guest room next to Futaba's. He would've put him in a room further from his daughter, but unfortunately, that was the only guest room Sojiro's house had. So he would just give Futaba vitamins three times a day for the next month, that should do the trick.

Sojiro had just placed Akira under the thick comforter when the aforementioned daughter skipped in the room, camo green jacket hanging from her shoulders with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Hey, Sojiro, I'm gonna go out with Ann today if-" she cut herself off, most likely seeing the sickly boy in the bed.

"Akira!"

Her happy skip turned into a frightened run as she rushed over to the side of the bed, where she fell to her knees and placed her hands on the mattress, pushing her face too close to Akira's for Sojiro's liking.

Sojiro tugged her back.

"I think he's sick." He said when questioning violet eyes turned to him. "It wouldn't do for you to get sick, too."

"Yeah..." Futaba responded dejectedly. "You're right..."

"I know you're worried about him, but that won't make him get better any quicker." Sojiro shooed her with a flick of his wrist. "Go have fun. Ann's waiting. I'll look after him while you're gone."

The redhead stood up quickly.

"You better!" Futaba jabbed a finger in his face, a hand on her hip. "If I find that he's in any worse condition when I get back..." she trailed off. Most would think she did so trying to build suspense and fear, but Sojiro knew that it was just that Futaba couldn't think of a good threat to end it on. It was quite amusing.

The man raised an eyebrow, silently questioning his daughter.

Futaba's ears turned red.

"You know! Just don't make him any worse! I'll think of a punishment while I'm on my trip with Ann if you do."

"Yeah, yeah. He's safe with me, kid."

"I'll hold you to that!"

With that, the girl left, leaving Sojiro with an unconscious, possibly sick, Akira.

He sighed.

_Now what?_

 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

Warmth was wrapped around Akira, quite unlike in the attic, where that small draft under the window kept making part of him cooler than the rest. So it was a rather confusing feeling to wake up to. But confusing was random. And random was good. So he allowed himself to relax. Until a familiar scent wafted through his nose. Coffee and curry... That scent made him feel sick all over again.

_No...go away..._

Despite how hopeless it was, Akira kept on wishing for the scent to vanish and be sucked back into sleep. But when it didn't, he felt as though he had no choice but to open his eyes and make the scent leave himself. Of course he didn't expect nice, white ceilings to greet his eyes when they opened, and he would've jumped if he wasn't groggy from just waking up.

He began to wonder where he was as his eyes glanced out the window that was in front of him to the right. But just as the boy tried to make sense of the blob shapes that were probably other buildings, realizing that he didn't have his glasses on, he tasted a wretched, bitter, metallic zing in his mouth that was all too familiar. Vomit.

The last few hours came back to him in a sudden blur. Him dragging himself out of bed. Petting Morgana. Eating yet another plate of Sojiro's curry. And throwing up and passing out in the alley next to the cafe.

But what happened after that? How did he get here, wherever here was?

The second question was rather easy to answer, for just a small glance to his upper right gave him a view of a Sojiro shaped blob. Said Sojiro blob was reading a book in the rolly chair next to the desk.

_I must be in Boss' house..._

He didn't seem to notice that he had awoken, and Akira planned to keep it like that for as long as he could to avoid, or at least hold off, the onslaught of embarrassment that was soon to follow when Sojiro noticed.

Now, among the continued wishes for the scent to leave him be, there was the wish that the earth would just swallow him whole; snuffed out of existence before the wave of humiliation came crashing down.

Just as Akira closed his eyes again to try to go back to sleep, or at least fake it, the deep rumbling of his Boss' voice invaded his ears.

"I know you're up, kid."

The raven haired teen tensed subconsciously and reopened his eyes to see that Sojiro still wasn't looking at him.

_How'd he know?_

_**Sojiro Sakura knows all...**_ Another voice in his mind whispered. It probably belonged to one of his minor Personas. Either that, or he was going crazy. Yet again, both very plausible options.

"How'd you know?" Akira asked, feeling as though this question was safe to ask.

Sojiro glanced up finally.

"Did ya really think I wouldn't know? Futaba's tried that trick so many times, I think I'm immune to it now."

"Oh."

That was the only reply Akira could think to give, but he didn't try to restart the conversation, and thankfully, neither did the older of the two.

They sat in silence for a while until Sojiro got up from his spot on the rolly chair and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

_Now's my chance!_ Akira thought, a small smile gracing his features and he thought about how he could escape from this death trap of embarrassment.

Quietly, he swept his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, balancing himself on the desk with a hand as a dizzy spell took over his head briefly. The first few steps to the door were easy, and he definitely would have made it out of the room if not for an annoyed Sojiro Sakura standing in the way on the other side.

Akira felt himself color slightly.

_Damn it, I got caught._

"Whatcha doing, kid?"

A gulp.

"Um...leaving?"

"Why?"

The raven haired boy's anxiety began its steady climb.

"Because I'm okay to go back now...?"

Sojiro rolled his eyes at that.

"No, you're not. You were passed out in an alley with your own vomit only about a foot away. Not to mention you've been out for the last four hours."

Akira's eyes found the floor, beginning to count the barely-visable-without-his-glasses cracks in the hardwood floors.

"You're probably sick, now get back into bed so I can take your temperature."

It was just then that Akira noticed the slim, white thermometer in his guardian's hand where the book once was.

_I shouldn't have opened my mouth -mind?-._ Akira thought, silently cursing himself as he dragged his feet back to bed. _Not only did I not last the day, but I'm faking being sick, too._

"I probably should have done this before..." Sojiro muttered, taking his place back in the rolly chair, pushing it over to the side of the bed as Akira laid down reluctantly.

"I'm...not sick, Boss." The raven haired teen said, peering up at the man's face.

A gentle flick on his forehead.

"That's the thermometer's job; don't steal it."

Akira stayed quiet after that, letting Sojiro stick the tool under his tongue and waiting patiently, albeit a bit crestfallen, for the beep at the end of the five minutes, eyes stuck on the wall in front of him.

When the thermometer did beep, and the cafe owner took it out of the younger's mouth, Akira allowed himself to look up at Sojiro's face once more. Confusion was the main emotion on it.

_The kid's at a normal temperature...I could've sworn he was sick._

Sojiro was confused.

_He threw up and passed out, yet he isn't sick...what's going on?_

He could see dark grey eyes looking at him through black bangs and recalled what the boy said before. That "he wasn't sick". Did he know what happened?

"You're not sick." Sojiro looked up. "But I need to ask," the kid tensed up. "what happened?"

Akira looked away, and if Sojiro didn't know him as well as he did, he'd say the teen even looked _scared._ But...then again, they never had any bonding time, and didn't really talk all that much...it was more of a watching each other kind of relationship. So, Sojiro guessed, he didn't really know the kid as well as he thought he did.

_What's he hiding from me?_

"It's nothing..." he murmured, lips barely moving.

"Bull." Sojiro crossed his arms, calling the kid out on his lie. "It has to be something. Unless throwing up randomly and fainting in alleyways is suddenly normal for the younger generation now."

Akira opened his mouth but nothing came out. Once, twice, and a third time. Eventually, he gave up trying to say whatever it was he wanted to tell him.

"It's nothing..." he repeated.

Sojiro resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Must...be...patient._

"Just tell me, kid. It's not like I'm gonna lord it over ya."

Akira still refrained from looking at him, and his mouth opened and closed with no sound for a fourth time. Was he actually scared?

As much as Akira wished it wasn't the case, he knew that Sojiro wasn't going to let him go until he explained himself. Oh, how he didn't want to. Why didn't he just skip the meal? Then he could've escaped this entire disaster. Guess he must've used up all his luck in the Metaverse.

"...Do I have to?" He whispered.

"Yeah, you have to. I'm not letting you leave until you do."

_Knew it._ Akira thought bitterly.

"I don't want to..."

When'd he get so shy? Where was his confidence, his poker face, at least? Why couldn't he be Joker here as well? Not for the first time Akira hated his Fear. Hated how weak it made him. It made his chest all tight and breathing hard to accomplish.

“Too bad, kid.”

Through the harshness of Sojiro's voice, Akira could hear the slight layer of concern coating his words. Knowing that he was making his guardian worry sent cold drops of guilt into his stomach, making it churn uncomfortably.

_I hate this feeling..._

Akira sat up, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and placing his chin atop them. His voice came out in a meek whisper as he spoke.

“Don't...tell the others...okay?”

Despite his panic and guilt stricken brain telling him to just blurt out the most vague summary of his Fear possible and get out of there, he knew that he owed Sojiro more than that. He was _worried_ for him. _Had_ worried for him. Cared for him. Fed him, and even though it made him sick and worsened his Fear, the older man didn't know! It wasn't his fault! All Sojiro had done for him throughout his stay was care and protect him, in his own weird way.

So despite the churning in his gut, and despite the headache that was starting to come back from thinking too much, and despite the heavy feeling on his tongue and the dryness in his throat, he forced his mouth to form the words, and his vocal chords to form the sounds. Forced a secret he had kept for more than a decade into the open space between them. Because Sojiro _deserved to know._

“Sure, I won't tell your friends.”

At Sojiro's agreement to his terms, Akira began to speak.

“I...don't like repetitive things. I...fear it, I guess you could say.” Even though Akira had reinforced himself with reassuring thoughts, speaking about this particular subject was still tough. “It makes me sick, a lot of times, if things are too familiar, too repetitive. It's not with everything, but a fair share of them. Mostly with scenery and the stuff I eat and drink.” He swallowed. _Here comes the hard part. Please, don't hate me, Sojiro..._ “So...having the same curry and coffee everyday...it's hard to even look at it without throwing up, or fainting on the spot...”

_Wait...so this whole problem was because I didn't give him variety?_ Sojiro shook his head lightly, out of the notice of the high school boy who was looking down at his feet on the bed. _No. Well, yes, but...he has a fear that he didn't tell me about that he's been stuck with for a while, going off of how he talks like this is normal...I should have noticed at the very least, even if he didn't tell me when he was obviously suffering._

“You should've told me.” It came out a little harsher than he wanted, but it got the point across.

Sojiro swore he saw the kid flinch, but it was gone as fast as in the time it takes for you to blink.

“Yeah, sorry...”

Sojiro wasn't finished.

“But you aren't to blame. Neither am I. No one really is. Or maybe we both are. I guess we just gotta take it out on nature for giving you this fear in the first place.”

Akira looked up, a little hopeful glint in his dark eyes.

“You're not mad?”

“No, kid, I'm not.” A small smirk stretched across the older's lips. “Unless you break something in my house or shop, I won't get mad. Futaba says I'm 'pretty chill.'”

That managed to get a soft giggle from the raven haired boy.

It was as if all the tension in the room got sucked into an invisible drain in the floor, and Sojiro felt his grin widen just a bit.

Another question came to mind.

“So how many times can you eat the same thing?”

Akira tapped his fingers on his thigh.

“Maybe...three times in a row? It also depends on what I drink with it. Sometimes if I drink a different thing every day with the same meal, I get an extra day or two before it becomes unbearable.” He explained.

“Ah.”

It was just then, with the sun seemingly shining just a bit brighter through the window, that the cafe owner had an idea.

He got up from his place on the rolly chair.

“I just remembered something. I'll be right back.” Pointing at Akira, he said, “Stay right there.” Although there was no hostility behind it, just mild playfulness. His grin never left his face.

Akira watched as Sojiro left the room, wondering what he forgot. Was it something for Futaba? Did he leave the shop open on accident? Or...just maybe...it was something for him? Akira shook his head. _Don't get your hopes up._

One would think that sitting there, alone, would give him some time to calm down, compose his thoughts, rearrange his collection of masks that he showed others to mask his Fear. But no. Just in those few moments with Sojiro, those light, happy moments, his mind had organized itself, and it was, just only for a moment and only if he didn't focus, almost as if his Fear didn't exist at all. That he wasn't cursed. But then it came back; it always came back. And yet this time...Akira found that he didn't really care as much anymore. Maybe it was because he finally shared his secret with someone else, or strengthened his bond with Sojiro, but all he knew, was that it felt as though a hefty weight had been lifted off his chest. He felt lighter. Breathing came easier. He was _happy._

 

But then, back to the waiting time...it was rather boring. There wasn't much else to say actually. It was just really boring. With all his problems sorted into the correct mental folder, there was nothing for him to ponder on. Nor was there anything close to being entertaining in the sparsely decorated room he was in. So he just sat. And waited. Waited for Sojiro to return. Which, as it ended up, took around half an hour. By that point, he had let his legs back down onto the clean, white covers and was playing with his fingers in his lap.

When the man finally returned, the click of the door caused Akira to jump. And more surprising to him was that he came in carrying a tray of slightly chunkier curry. It looked rather similar to his normal curry that he ate every day, and it made his gut lurch, but...for some reason, it wasn't as bad as it normally was.

“Here, kid.”

Sojiro put the tray on Akira's lap, retaking his place in the rolly chair.

“Ah...but this...” Akira made a weak attempt at rejecting the food.

Sojiro sighed.

“Just eat it, Akira.”

Akira colored slightly. It wasn't everyday Sojiro called him by his name. It was either 'brat' or 'kid', never his actual name. It made him happy. Even happier than before. Despite the fact that Sojiro was apparently trying to use the “overcome your fear by extreme exposure” method... But Akira would put some trust in him!

_One bite..._ He thought. _One bite, and if I feel sick, I'm not eating any more of it._

The spoon was raised hesitantly to his mouth, and as it stayed there for a few seconds, Akira noticed that it had a different scent. Slightly spicier...slightly burnt...slightly meatier. Quite different from the relaxing aroma of coffee and veggies that the usual curry had.

Akira decided to eat it.

The first thing Akira thought when the flavor spread across his tongue was _Terrible._ It was slightly burnt, there was too much oregano, and the veggies were still in large, hard bits. It was on par with his own meager cooking skills. Rather surprising coming from a man who owned his own _curry_ shop. But Akira couldn't help but love it. It was different. And even though it was terrible, the raven haired teen could still taste the love that was poured into it; it truly was a secret ingredient.

Sojiro sat, awaiting the vehement exclaims of disgust that was soon to follow after Akira's first bite of the curry.

To tell the truth, he had never made this kind before, he had just found the one that was furthest from the usual he served and made it. It was no doubt a wretched dish. And yet...Sojiro saw no signs of any impending nausea from his charge. Instead, he watched stunned as a tear rolled down his cheek. Followed by another. And another. And the kid kept eating.

“H-hey...!” Sojiro didn't know what to do. Why was he crying? How could he fix this? _Should_ he fix this? “Why...Why are you _crying?_ ”

A watery smile plastered itself on Akira's face, and an equally watery laugh bubbled up from his lips.

“Because I'm happy!”

With a sigh, Sojiro allowed himself to lean back into his chair, smiling a bit, too as the panic left him. If Akira was happy, then anything was fine with him as long as he didn't get hurt.

_I guess I gotta learn how to make different curries. It'll be tough, that's for sure. But if it makes him happy...I think I'll do anything for him. Cooking will be no problem._

“That's good, kid. Keep being happy.”

_Because I don't want you sad._

**Author's Note:**

> Another one-shot~! Hope you guys enjoyed, and if you have any critique involving the characters (considering it's my first time writing for this fandom) or something else that's on your mind, or even just a random thought you have, feel free to drop it off in my comment box. Writing for this series was really fun, so you can expect more from me in it.
> 
>  
> 
> Bye-bye~  
> Funifuni


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